


taking your hand (in marriage)

by riel



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Fluff, Ghosts, M/M, and snake gives him his arm when he dies, and then he becomes a ghost and everyones happy, basically: hal doesnt have an arm au, but snakes spirit possesses hal, its better than it sounds i promise!, its just like references to them nothing actually suggestive!, theres like.. 2 lines of mildly suggestive stuff. very mild, theyre just in love and they deserve to grow old together.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 07:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riel/pseuds/riel
Summary: Hal Emmerich lost his arm when he was too young to remember.Now, years later, Hal’s been through many things. He’s pissed his pants, he’s fallen in love, he’s adopted a child. The weirdest addition to this list is getting his (dead) husband’s arm attached to him. It’s a bit morbid, but puts a literal meaning to keeping a part of your significant other with you forever.And then he starts hearing a voice calling his name in whispers -- a voice that sounds too similar to his love, lost just months ago.





	taking your hand (in marriage)

**Author's Note:**

> first mgs fic babey! hope u like :D i got this idea when watching mgs2 and decided “eh why the fuck not”
> 
> thanks to @RainPhee for supporting me writing this throughout the whole process! and thanks to them for getting me into mgs in the first place. i love my mom <3

Hal Emmerich never had many friends.

Perhaps it was the fact that his sister was his only friend. Or how he stayed up so late watching anime, coming to school the next day with bags under his eyes. Maybe it was how he got good grades without trying. 

Mostly though, it was about his stump of an arm that hung on his right, stopping where the midpoint of his shoulder and elbow would be. 

Hal asks his dad about it one time at dinner. He gets nothing more than a dismissive reply that it was ‘an accident’. He tries to press on, asks what kind of accident, but his dad doesn’t say anything more. It’s frustrating. Maybe it’s because his stepmom and sister were at the table; he asks him after dinner, but gets the same, hushed reply.

Hal ends up being left in the hallway as his dad leaves to go into his room, confused and feeling even more lost.

The fact that he doesn’t have anyone to talk to about this makes it worse.

Sure, he  _ could  _ talk to Emma. But Hal doesn’t want to burden her with his worries.

He’s even sneaked into his dad’s room before on his own, looked around for almost a whole hour - but Hal found nothing but old pictures, unrelated papers.

He’s  _ sure _ his dad knows something. It’s in the way he looks away with a faint, distant look in his eyes, the way he avoids anything to do with these questions, the way his dad looks down and traces his prosthetic legs.

Ever since he was young, he remembers not having an arm. Hal finds pictures of himself in an old box, at age four or five, with it still intact. He has those pictures on his table now, and he brushes his left hand over it. 

He brushes his fingers over the image of him, small and wide-eyed and wide-smiling. 

Hal looks in the mirror.

He frowns, gently laying his left hand on his right shoulder. It feels like a part of him’s been gone forever, and he’s  _ always _ been fine with it. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly caught up with thoughts of it.

He looks back at the picture, eyes downcast. At least he was at that age where being called an armless weirdo by his peers started to cease (mostly because they were getting too mature for it, but he had his doubts that it’d stop completely). Hal bites at his lower lip, wondering if it’ll get any worse from here.  _ Here’s to hoping it won’t _ , he silently thinks to himself. 

Sighing, Hal flops backwards onto his armchair. He briefly tries to remember those early childhood days when he had an arm -- but his memories fizz and blur. It hurts his head to think too far into the past, but he can’t help staring down at the stump on his right shoulder. 

Blurry shapes and colours fill his dreams that night. He wakes up feeling tired and unhappy.

 

* * *

 

 

_ Years later... _

Otacon stumbles out, supporting himself on a table. That was the most terrifying thing to ever happen to him -- he’s still thinking about that trail of dead bodies in the hallway, and somehow keeps the bile from rising into his throat. 

Then he’s face to face with a soldier (that probably saved his life, honestly) and he’s being questioned and threatened and told how REX was really a nuclear weapon. He has a nervous smile on his face from the start to end of their conversation. He tenses at the last part of that: he was supposed to be helping the world, not continuing a violent legacy...

Otacon resolves himself to do better than both his father  _ and _ his grandfather.

“So... how’d you lose the arm?” Snake asks him later after a few codec calls, sounding concerned. Otacon still feels embarrassed over meeting him while in piss-soaked pants and after hiding in a locker while hearing the fighting going on outside. The sudden change in his tone of voice is unexpected, but not unwelcome.

He shuffles around, still hidden in the camouflage suit. “Oh, that? It wasn’t the ninja... obviously.” Otacon adds with a nervous laugh. He hears Snake snort amusedly over the call. “It was... you know, an accident.”

Otacon exhales. That’s what his dad had always said to him, and he feels himself stiffen. He knows Snake doesn’t know his father, and he’s the only one in this call hearing him speak -- but he feels the urge to change his words immediately.

“What kind of--” Snake starts. Otacon knows exactly what he’s going to ask, and it’s a question that he wishes  _ he _ had the answer to.

“Well, it... happened when I was young.” He interrupts, muttering, scratching the base of his neck. “Most of my life, I’ve been without it. I’m used to it by now.”

He hopes Snake doesn’t press into it.

To his fortune, Snake seems to sense his discomfort and unease and he goes quiet. “...Never got a prosthetic arm?” He seems to settle on saying instead. “They’re more affordable now. I’ve seen a lot of people around with prosthetics.” 

“Oh, I never got around to getting one. I function just fine with one arm.” Otacon tries to sound dismissive, but he knows the real reason why he never got one. He thinks of his dad in his wheelchair, with  _ his _ prosthetic legs.

The thought of resembling his father made him feel sick years ago. It still does now. 

Snake’s chuckle echoes in his ear and breaks through his thoughts. “Well, if that’s what makes you happy. Can’t say I’ve ever met a limbless guy who didn’t want a prosthetic... then again, most guys I met without a limb were in the military. That’s a different situation right there.”

“It certainly is.” Otacon agrees, managing to muster a smile. “Well, I hope all the guys you knew got what they wanted.” He subconsciously brushes his hand on his shoulder. He wonders if there’s a world where he decided to get a prosthetic -- where he was reminded of his father everytime he even glanced down.

The codec call ends there as Snake curses and the sound of gunshots permeates the air, but Otacon can’t stop longing to dial the frequency again.

 

* * *

 

Otacon thinks he’s going to cry.

No, fuck it, he  _ is _ crying. Snake looks about ready to start driving, but he pauses and looks behind him with worry creasing his brow. “...Otacon?” He says, a softness in his voice that wouldn’t be possible just hours ago. His right hand wavers above Otacon’s cheek as waterfalls of wetness flow down them.

He doesn’t know why he’s crying. He’s getting off Shadow Moses, he’s no longer going to be making nuclear weapons without knowledge of it, he’s going to be safe -- and then Otacon realises they’re not sad tears.

“Sorry,” He says, half-choking it out with a wobbly smile. “Sorry. You’re... one of the first few people who hasn’t treated me like I’m some incapable weirdo or some freak for not having one arm.”

Memories of years of taunting and bullying burn in his mind. He winces at them for a moment as they emerge to the surface, but then there’s a hand on his shoulder and the storm in his mind seems to calm.

Snake looks at him with undeniable fondness in his expression. “You’ve saved my life several times, Otacon. You’re the farthest from incapable that a person can get. I don’t know  _ who _ told you that you were, but... I know you, and I know you’re nothing  _ but _ capable.”

_ He knows me _ , Otacon repeats in his head, mulling over it quietly. He smiles gently.

“You know we didn’t even know each other a few days ago, right?” He can’t help adding, but he’s laughing now too. “...Thank you, Snake.”

Then they share their real names, and Hal and David live in a cozy log cabin in the quiet woods of Alaska together for a while, forgotten to the outside world. They get a dog (well, a few), they shovel snow blocking their doorway together, they fall in love and share moments together that neither of them will ever forget.

It’s nice, just the two of them. It’s really nice.

 

* * *

 

 

And then Snake’s gone.

His last year spent and his last breath gone in the wind.  _ Hal... _ Snake had murmured, eyes shutting peacefully. The sun beat down warmly on his face, and Otacon can’t imagine Snake wanting to go any other way.

But he still misses him.

None of this is fair.

He’s the one making the funeral arrangements -- after all, all of Snake’s family is gone apart from him and Sunny. He can’t imagine any of them wanting to show up anyways, apart from maybe coming to  _ celebrate _ Snake’s death.

He grimaces the longer he spends staring at different caskets online and the more he looks up ‘how to arrange a funeral’. In the end, he settles for a quiet funeral, just him and Sunny and the rest of their close friends. Snake wouldn’t want this to be something extravagant or attention-grabbing, Otacon thinks to himself.

Sunny picks out flowers with him, squeezing his hand with a sad smile. He thinks of getting plastic flowers at first (they won’t die out, he reasons), but he decides against it. There has to be real flowers in Snake’s grave with him.

He’s not good with the names of flowers. He and Sunny simply pick out pretty-looking flowers, in her words. They’re bright and vibrant, and Otacon wishes Snake was here to smell them with him. They smell almost too good.

Snake is buried in their wedding outfit. It’ll leave him with a good last memory of him. As peaceful as he looks, Otacon feels his own turmoil overwhelm him. 

It pains him, leaving a deep ache in his chest, when he sees his husband sleeping peacefully in the glass case. Otacon swears he hears and feels his heart shatter into a million pieces when the fire is lit within the casket. He almost can’t bring himself to look -- 

But he does, for Snake’s sake.

“Snake...” He murmurs with his eyes closed as the heat of the flame warmed his face. Sunny is beside him, grasping onto his hand reassuringly. “No--David... Dave, I just... need to thank you. For everything. You didn’t have any reason to stick with me for so, so long. You could’ve left me at any time... but you didn’t. You were always there for me. You liked me for me. And you... you were the first one who told me I wasn’t incapable, that I was more than just an armless weirdo. You made me feel like... like I could do anything.”

He smiles a bittersweet smile. He’s crying again, but now Snake isn’t there to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, to tell him that’s everything okay. He isn’t so sure things will ever fully be okay, again.

“And for that, Dave? ...Thank you. I love you... so, so much.”

Otacon hopes Snake hears his goodbyes.

 

* * *

 

 

 

A few weeks later, the doorbell rings. He’s still curled up in his bed (his lonely, too-large bed) when he hears it. Sunny readily dashes to answer it, flashing her dad a bright-eyed, comforting smile before she does.

She comes back a second later with alarm in her expression.

There’s a couple men at the door, and Otacon manages to get himself up. His hair isn’t combed and there’s visible bags beneath his eyes, but the look in Sunny’s eyes told him that this wasn’t just a couple of door salesmen trying to cheat him out of his money. He probably should’ve guessed that from the suits they were wearing.

“We have your husband’s will here.” One of them says, handing him a document within a letter. Otacon frowns. He wasn’t aware Snake had even written a will. “We couldn’t find any other family members, or anyone else named in it.”

There’s a pregnant pause as Otacon takes it with a twitching hand. He swallows the lump in his throat. Snake didn’t have much that he owned that wasn’t also owned by him. He’s about to thank the men, shut the door, walk away and read it--

“Oh, and one more important thing,” A different man starts, pausing him in his step. “We’re aware of your status as an amputee. Your husband... in his will, he mentioned that fact and specifically requested that before his cremation, he would be willing to donate his right arm to you. We have it ready, if you would like to carry out the operation.”

Otacon blanches for a second.

“I... need to think about it.” He decides to say.

He gets a few understanding nods, and is passed the address of a hospital nearby where they could perform the surgery before the door is closed.

The minute he steps inside his house, he practically collapses on the sofa.  _ Snake... _ He couldn’t believe this. He knew he complained about wishing he had a hand that didn’t remind him of his father (even if he was completely fine like this, like he had been for the past decades) a lot, but  _ this _ ?

He hadn’t realised Snake didn’t have most of his right arm during the funeral, but most of that day felt like blurred colours and a mass of emotions now. He glances at his husband’s ashes, pursing his lips.

It was a lot to think about. Sunny looks over at him, slouched and staring at the envelope in his grip and voices her concern. “Dad?” She asks with a gentle frown, walking over to him and placing her hands on his shoulder.

“I’m-- it’s... nothing, Sunny. I’m fine.” He sighs, ruffling her hair. Snake worrying him from beyond the grave was one thing, but he didn’t want to concern his daughter too.

She gives him that look - questioning, curious, disbelieving - and Otacon almost withers under it. He doesn’t like hiding information from her, but she’d been there for him enough when he was in grief over Snake passing. He didn’t need her to worry about this.

“I’ll be alright, okay?” He softly says, making eye contact with her. “C’mon. Let’s go cook up some breakfast before both of us are hungry. Maybe you can show me how much you’ve improved in cooking eggs.”

The mention of her favourite food seems to lighten the mood. Sunny grins, her eyes sparkling, and she hops off the sofa with a bright ‘okay!’ and runs off. Presumably, to the kitchen.

Otacon sighs again. He stares down at the envelope. 

_ If this is what Snake wanted to do for me... _ He thinks longingly, placing it down on his lap and brushing his fingers over the lip of the letter. Hesitantly, Otacon opens it, and takes out the document placed inside neatly. Snake’s  _ will _ .  _...I guess having a part of him with me forever is better than missing him forever. _

He stands up a few minutes later, stretching his arms. He gingerly leaves the will on the sofa.

And a couple days later, Otacon’s standing in front of the front desk of the hospital. The attending nurse smiles gently at him. “How can I help you today?” She says, hands ready to tap at the computer on the desk.

“I’m O-- Hal Emmerich.” He nearly blurts out his codename, the one he’s used to almost everybody calling him. Saying his surname no longer feels dirtied: it feels like home, of him and  _ Sunny _ Emmerich and  _ David _ Emmerich. “My husband... David Emmerich? He passed a few weeks ago... in his will, he offered up his arm for a transplant...”

He pauses and gestures at his lack of a right arm. The nurse nods in understanding, dialing the phone next to her and chatting to some other doctor (presumably).

It takes a few more hours impatiently in the waiting room, but when he wakes up, there’s  _ feeling _ in his right hand (and he  _ has _ an arm now) and he exhales. 

He drowsily glances at it, looking at the obvious stitches where they were attached, the differing skin tones -- though, he’s most surprised by the lack of difference in arm mass. Snake was always more fit than him, with muscles to boast.

Well, there was no body to supply those muscles anymore, Otacon muses to himself. It’s not like  _ his _ body would be able to retain it either, not with his bad sleeping schedule and his habits of forgetting to eat anything until Sunny dragged him out of bed. It made it feel more like a part of him, somehow.

The medical bill for this would be something he’d worry about usually, but he was too exhausted to think about it right now. Tiredness almost overtakes his senses in an instant, and he’s read to let himself drift away into unconsciousness. 

He still finds it hard to believe that he has a part of his husband with him... forever. He smiles to himself silently.

“Snake,” Otacon murmurs as his eyes start to shut. The arm throbs a bit, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. As he drifts off, he faintly feels like he’s being watched, and there’s almost the sound of a familiar voice echoing in his head.

_ Hal... _

Maybe he’s just delirious from the anaesthesia.

 

* * *

 

 

Only a few days had passed since he’d gotten the arm transplant, and he was still in the hospital. He’d told Sunny that he might be gone -- and he knew she could take care of herself, thankfully. He’d kept his phone on him, just in case there was an emergency. Sunny knew what number to dial.

Doctors and nurses came in occasionally into his room to see if he was doing okay and to give him meals, but for the most part he was alone. The bed he’d been moved to was closest to the window, so that was a plus.

Sometimes, when he looks out onto the glass, Otacon swears that he sees Snake.

Every time though, he shakes his head and the visage of his husband fades away. It probably has something to do with the arm, he thinks with a weak chuckle. That and the voice he swears he hears muttering in his head sometimes.

He’s still missing Snake. He knows that. He looks at his phone sometimes, the wallpaper a picture of him and Snake smiling together. Otacon’s heart clenches and he swears he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Otacon still attributes that to the anaesthetic’s effects wearing off on him.

The doctors’ responses to when he can be discharged don’t change -- and they say in the next couple of days. The prospect of going home to Sunny, being able to actually pick her up with both hands, being able to cook meals for her, being able to wrap his arms around her makes him excited. The possibilities were limitless. He couldn’t help the small grin on his face.

It was a bit of an odd thought that his husband’s arm was going to be with him for the rest of his life, but weirder stuff had happened to him before. This was tame, compared to everything else.

His smile somehow grows wider.  _...Thank you, Snake.  _ He murmurs under his breath, tracing the length of his arm. Otacon stretches his new fingers. Snake would’ve wanted him to be happy, even without him... and he is. Even if it’s a bittersweet happiness tangled with the sadness of his grief, he knows he’ll be happy.

_ Hal... _

Otacon jerks upwards at the sound of his name being whispered like somebody was by his ear. It’s happening yet again, hearing that all too painful shadow of a memory echo his name. His shoulders tighten. 

He knows he isn’t over Snake’s death yet, and he doesn’t know if he ever will be. But he didn’t think he was so in grief that he’s hearing voices.

He takes a deep breath. “Snake...?” He dares to ask the air. There’s no reply, and he sighs. “...I know. You’re dead and gone and I need... I need to accept that. I watched your body go up in smoke.” He winces, looking down at the arm given to him. “...I know there’s a part of you here. But...”

Otacon’s voice wavers and he finds himself unable to continue. He bites back the words  _ you’re gone forever _ , blinking away beads of tears that start to form in his eyes.

His thoughts go silent.

Maybe if he looks at Snake’s ashes again, he’ll finally be able to accept this crushing reality. The one where he’ll have to live alone, raise Sunny alone, and die alone. Otacon squeezes his eyes shut and manages to find some peace in the darkness.

Until he hears the voice again.

_ Hal, I’m _ \-- _ I’m not _ \--  _ Hal! _

Otacon sits up straight and rigid.

His heart is racing and his eyes are as wide as saucers. He’s... hearing things. He has to be. He knows he said weirder things have happened in his life, but he watched Snake’s body burn up, he was there when the final light of his love was snuffed out. Otacon looks down at his phone with his eyes burning up. 

A part of his mind desperately wants to believe it. With wet eyes he forces himself to shake his head.  _ Snake’s dead. _

He’s just in denial. There’s no other explanation.

“Hal--” Then comes a low hiss out of his own mouth. 

His eyes widen in shock. That wasn’t his voice. 

But he  _ knew _ that voice. He knew it well -- too well. He felt his mouth move, felt the air force out of his throat, in a voice that didn’t seem physically possible. His heart throbbed and he felt like he couldn’t breath. It felt like he was back on Shadow Moses, pissing his pants in fear of his life, watching his life flash by his eyes like an album of photographs.

And then, Otacon’s eyes widen again.  _ I’ve seen someone else with an arm from a different person, and it was like he was possessed-- _

“You’re... I- oh my god,  _ Snake _ ?”   
  


* * *

“Hal...” He hears that voice, the voice he’d longed to hear for days, escape his mouth and he feels his heart swell. This time, it isn’t in a bad way. “Hal, I don’t know how this happened, but...”

“But you probably don’t feel so bad about it as all the other things that have happened to us before when we least expected it?” Otacon finishes for him, unable to keep the small gleeful smile off his expression.

When he said ‘weird stuff’ happened to them, he didn’t exactly expect his husband’s spirit to be in his arm and to possess his vocal chords.

He didn’t hate it.

“I guess this is like the time Ocelot had Liquid’s hand and was possessed by his spirit.” The low, gravelly voice chuckles from his throat. Otacon smiles. He’s missed Snake’s voice so much, and even if he couldn’t be here in front of him right now... hearing it was good enough. “Big Boss told me Ocelot had hypnotised himself into being Liquid. Weird as hell as it was, can’t say I actually thought it was Liquid in there.”

“I know, Snake, you’ve reminded me about that at least fifteen times.” Otacon nods, smiling at the memories of their years floating through his head. “...Maybe we should see this as a good thing. We deserve it, don’t we?” 

He thinks of the way Snake’s shoulders relaxed the second they were off Shadow Moses. The cabin they spent time in together, asleep in together’s arms, their dog, the sparks of love they had in the middle of the night, the nightmares they comforted the other about.

He thinks of how they’d dedicated years to exposing Metal Gears, not wanting the horror of the machine to repeat. He thinks of the way Snake calmed, smiling, as they embraced. He thinks of the pain he had when the accelerated aging started to kick in.

He thinks of Sunny’s expression when he had to tell her Snake was sick. The thought that he was going to be gone forever, his last minutes spent and gone. He thinks of the joy that leapt in his stomach when Dave came back, of their days together, of the way his eyes shined and crinkled despite his bedridden state.

He thinks of the pit that followed as he watched him close his eyes on that sunny day.

Otacon bites his lip. They did deserve this.

“...I don’t know.” Snake sighs, after a moment of silence hangs in the air. “You saw how it went with Ocelot. He went completely insane, ruined his psyche. I know he had malicious intentions in the first place, but... I don’t want to lose you. I  _ can’t _ lose you, Hal.”

He hears the worry in Snake’s voice.  _ But I lost you just days ago. _ He wants to murmur painfully. He doesn’t know if Snake can hear his thoughts now that he’s a spirit dwelling in his body, but Otacon feels like he still has to say something.

“...Snake, we deserve good things--“ Otacon says, voice wavering and his hand (hands, he has to correct himself) shaking. One year hadn’t been enough. Not for him, not for Sunny, and definitely not for Snake. “Especially you. You’ve gone through hell and back, and you...  _ you _ deserve good things, Dave.”

Snake is silent. And then, there’s a familiar sigh escaping his mouth, and Hal swears he can feel the ghost of his husband lay a gentle hand on his cheek, rest his forehead against his. “...Don’t forget about  _ yourself _ , Hal.”

That breaks him.

He’s sobbing quietly now. “Oh, Snake...” He chokes out, tears streaming down his face. He brings his legs into himself, curling into a tight ball. It feels like Snake’s here, wrapping his arms around him soothingly. “I missed you.”

 

* * *

 

 

He’s home now and Sunny beams at him from the sofa, waving eagerly. “Hi dad!” She chirps. “I know you told me you might be gone for a while, but I didn’t think you’d go the day after you told me...”

“Sorry about that, Sunny. I’m glad you’ve been okay while I wasn’t here.” Otacon smiles. He subconsciously puts his right arm behind his back -- his daughter doesn’t seem to notice, but she’s probably just used to seeing him with one arm now.

_ You didn’t tell her she was going to get her dead dad’s arm attached to her other dad? Very smooth, Hal.  _ Snake’s voice muses in his mind. 

He’s taken aback for a brief second.  _ Huh, Snake, I didn't think you could speak in my mind. _ Otacon feels like laughing, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouths.  _ You got the hang of this spirit thing real quick, didn’t you? _

_ What can I say? I missed talking to you even while I was dead, Hal. _

An image of Snake, younger than he was - the age he would look if he wasn’t affected by his shorter telomeres, with dark brown hair and bright eyes - and grinning appears in his mind, and he can just feel the warmth radiating off his words.

_...I missed you too, Dave. _ He sighs, the still-fresh memory of the pain aching in his chest hurting.  _ I never thought I’d see you again. It’d been so soon but... now you’re here. _

_ And I won’t go away this time, or ever again.  _

Snake’s voice is reassuring, even if it’s in the form of an echoing voice in his head. Something about it just made his nerves calm right down, his shoulders relax and his heart rate settle. Otacon thinks if this continues, he’ll start crying again.

“...Dad, when did you get another arm?”

Sunny’s voice cuts into his thoughts (rather, his mental conversation with Snake) and she’s suddenly right next to him, peering up at him with confusion. Otacon gulps nervously.

He’d been so caught up in talking to Snake, that he completely forgot she was in the room. And she was  _ observant. _

_ She’s a child prodigy, Hal. If she can learn what took you years in a week, what makes you think she’s not going to notice something like her father having an extra arm right away? _ Snake snorts playfully.

_ I don’t know! I thought I’d have maybe a few hours, not a few minutes.  _ He retorts in defense of himself, though he still feels embarrassed.  _ I... don’t think we should keep hiding this from her. We should tell her _ \--  _ about you. _

Otacon doesn’t need to hear Snake’s silent agreement.

He takes a deep breath, and kneels down to look Sunny in the eyes. “...Sunny, Snake’s... he’s not dead.” He starts, unsure how to go about this. She looks at him with even more confusion, and he doesn’t blame her. “I... Sunny, you saw how I got this new arm? That’s-- that’s why I was gone for a few days.”

She nods and opens her mouth, probably about to ask how that was related to his first point, but Otacon gently shushes her. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Snake’s arm.

“This... this is Snake’s arm.”

Otacon pauses, letting the realisation sink in. Sunny’s expression goes through a rollercoaster of emotions. “...What?” Sunny finally says after a moment of silence, but her eyebrows are knitted together in bewilderment. “You have his arm?”

“He wanted me to have it when he died,” He explains. “I guess neither of us noticed it being in the funeral, huh? He specified it in his will, and I don’t know when it was gone, but... there’s... something else.”

She looks to him for an explanation.

Otacon isn’t sure how the hell he’s supposed to explain that  _ Snake’s in his arm. _

_ Hal, maybe I can just talk to her. _ Snake’s spirit suggests over his shoulder. He blinks at the interjection, but agrees. It wouldn’t be easy to try and explain something like this -- they might as well show her plainly.

_ Well, just don’t freak her out, alright?  _ “This will be easier for me - or, well, for him - to just... show you. Please don’t panic, okay?”

“...Okay.” She quietly replies. “Okay, dad.”

And then there’s the sensation of parts of his body going numb. Snake doesn’t seize control of his whole body, which he’s grateful for. “Hey, Sunny.” That voice he’s missed so much says, coming out of  _ him _ , and he feels the corners of his mouth quirk upwards unwillingly.

Sunny’s eyes widen to the size of the planet, if that was even possible. “...Papa?” Her voice breaks. “Dad, you’re not just doing a funny voice... papa, is it really you?” 

The sound of his daughter’s voice being reduced to a tearful whisper makes Otacon’s heart break. “Yeah. It’s me, Sunny.” Snake says, and then there’s tears rolling down his cheeks. He feels his body move to hug Sunny in a tight embrace -- it’s not fully him doing it, but he knows both him and Snake want to.

Sunny cries into his (their) shoulder for a few more minutes. Otacon feels warm inside. Their family may not be fully stitched up, and there might only be  _ part  _ of Snake here...

But it was enough for the three of them.

 

* * *

 

Getting used to having his husband in his arm takes a while.

For one, talking to Snake entirely through a mental conversation means standing in one spot for five, ten minutes and laughing in bursts of happiness to himself. People stare at him oddly in public, but in his mind, Snake smiles at him with a smile that could light up the world.

“Hey, did we need any more batteries? I forgot to check if we were out just now...” Otacon mumbles under his breath, brushing his hand over the packs near the checkout counter. He’s muttering half to himself, half to Snake.

_ And I forgot to remind you, I guess. _ Snake chuckles.  _ Why don’t you buy some just in case? We’re going to use them all up anyways. _

“Right, extras! Good idea.” He nods, taking a few packs and placing them in the basket. That’s about all they need, so he walks over to the checkout counter. It still makes him giddy with glee to have  _ two _ arms now. He could actually carry a basket of groceries and pick things out at the same time!

_ Hal, you know, you’re adorable when you’re excited. _ Snake remarks. Otacon feels himself flush, and he really hopes the cashier isn’t noticing the guy in front of him turning red out of nowhere.

_ You’re the worst. _ He thinks back playfully. He nods a flustered thanks to the cashier, walking off with his basket of groceries. “Maybe I should wear headphones all the time so I don’t look crazy talking to myself...” Otacon murmurs, scratching the base of his neck.

_ Or you could just think your thoughts to me, like you just did, _ is suggested to him.

Otacon rolls his eyes. “But I like talking to you when I  _ can _ , Dave.”

_ Aww. Just like I said. You’re adorable. _

He tries to pretend he’s not blushing even more. “Well, you _have_ _to_ talk inside my mind, since -- well, you know. I like hearing your voice and all but if people saw me not just talking to myself, but in two different voices?” He shakes his head and laughs quietly. “I don’t want to have to explain that.”

_...I guess headphones are a good idea.  _ Snake admits.  _ I don’t think testifying your sanity as ‘my dead husband’s spirit possesses me’ will work well in court.  _

Otacon laughs out loud at that, and for once he doesn’t take notice of people staring at him.

They get home not too long after. He sets the plastic bags of groceries down on the dining table, and starts to put them away. Otacon feels a weight lift from his other arm, and he can’t help but grin a little.

“I’m doing my job as a good husband, that’s all.” Snake says, and Otacon’s grin stretches even wider.

“I get it, Snake.” He replies. “You’re strong and seeing as you can’t bench press me with just an arm, you’re doing this to make up for it.”

“I  _ could _ bench press you if I wanted to, Hal. Watch out.”

He probably looks like he’s crazy to any outside observer, but Otacon smiles like an idiot. He’s so, so in love with the man inside his head, and sighs dreamily the more he hears the voice of the man he loves. The man he’s missed, even if for only a few weeks.

“You’re getting in a real romantic mood for just putting away the groceries.” Snake muses. Otacon, forgetting that he could hear his every thought, is taken aback for a second. He feels a hum of Snake’s amusement in his head.

Before, he used to joke that Snake knew him so well that it was like they knew the others’ mind inside and out. It was more literal now.

Walking into the kitchen, Otacon sets down the groceries and starts to put them away. “It’s been weeks, Snake.” He replies gently, a smile lacing his features. “I can at least think of kissing you, even if the closest I can get to now is kissing your arm.”

“Kissing my arm?” Snake chuckles. “Well, we’ve done weirder things, haven’t we?”

Otacon flushes a pale pink at that. “It’s my arm now too, Snake.” He pauses. “Besides, Sunny’s home right now. Maybe another time.”

They talk in the back-and-forth manner that’s starting to become routine for the both of them - Snake’s deep rasp escaping his mouth, then him talking again, then Snake again, and then him again, all over - and time seems to fly by in a brief second by the time all their groceries are put away into the appropriate places.

“Hey, is that my wedding ring on the countertop?” Snake interjects, his arm pointing at one of the island counters. Otacon turns to look, and sure enough, the small blue box is sat neatly on top of a stack of plates.

Otacon’s eyes light up, and he walks over to it. “It is, huh?” He picks up Snake’s wedding ring from its cushioned position in the box, feeling both of their hearts flutter. 

“I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do with the ring.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I  _ was _ going to keep it here forever - obviously, but... I don’t know. I was going to polish it monthly, I think I was going to move it by your ashes... but I got so distracted with mourning that I just left it on the kitchen counter, I guess.”

“But now I’m here.” Snake says, and he feels the edges of his lips crinkle upwards. Otacon slips the ring onto Snake’s finger, watching the light bounce off the metal. 

It’s mesmerising.

The sight of a ring on both hands makes him smile with glee. Him and Snake really took being joined together at marriage literally.

“People are gonna think I’m married to myself if I go outside with matching rings on both ring fingers.” Otacon jokes -- but now that his husband is (literally) a part of himself, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing for people to think.

He can feel Snake’s agreement radiating inside him even without the need for a verbal response.

“Good,” Comes the gruff response. “Would be pretty awkward if somebody tried to hit on you while I was in here.”

Otacon laughs. “Aw, Snake, I don’t think anyone would want to hit on an almost forty year old nerd talking to himself in different voices. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

“If I can marry you even after seeing you piss your pants and talk about your Japanese cartoons, I’m sure anything can happen.”

It’s a warm memory of Shadow Moses, and he’s still unsure how he was so lucky to have met Snake there and then. The affection in his head makes him brighten like a lightbulb at a spark of an idea. Tilting his head down, Otacon shuts his eyes and plants a delicate kiss on the ring on his right hand. “Anything.” He agrees.

Snake’s warmth surrounds his mind without even a flash of a second passing.

“Oh, Hal--” He murmurs, his voice going soft and rich with fondness and love. “Hal...” And it’s warm. It’s so very warm. He loves Snake so much, and Snake loves him too and it makes him feel all fuzzy and good inside to know that his love will be here with him until the end of time.  _ I love you so much, _ echoes both of their feelings in their shared mind, intense and burning with deep, fierce adoration for the other. 

“Dave...” And he almost feels Snake’s ghost leaning against him, forehead to forehead like there was nothing in the universe but the two of them and the stars. 

There’s a faint brush of a sensation on his lips, and Otacon remembers the taste of Snake’s kiss, from the first time in the cabin in Alaska. He remembers the honey-like love spreading through his chest, the way he never wanted to let go, even for air.

And then Snake appears right in front of him.

He’s just as he pictures in his mind -- except maybe a bit paler, a bit more translucent (and there’s stitches around where Snake’s arm was attached to his body, and he barely takes notice at first), but Snake is  _ here _ and he can see him and Otacon chokes out a cry. He wraps his arms around his husband, feeling the cold press of his body against his warmth. He doesn’t care one bit, because he can  _ feel _ Snake.

“You didn’t tell me that you could do that.” Otacon says through tears, smiling against Snake’s skin. “I thought you were going to be stuck as just a voice in my arm forever. But you’re here, Dave...”

“Kept you waiting, huh?” Snake chuckles.

Otacon smiles even wider.

They deeply embrace for what feels like hours, just  _ feeling _ the other after so long, starved of touch. “I got the hang of being a spirit real quick,” Snake softly says. “I can’t be a ghost like this all the time, but-- Hal, you could make seconds of eye contact feel like an eternity. I think the limited time I can be like this is enough for us.”

“It will be.” Otacon says, finally breaking off. He does it only so he can see into Snake’s eyes, see the love and adoration pooling in them. If he looks hard enough, he can see galaxies in them.

Even while Snake’s ghost appears in front of him, he knows he can still feel everything he’s feeling.  _ We really are that cheesy couple in love, huh? _ He hears Snake’s mind mutter. Otacon can’t help but agree.

“Hal, I think there’s one more person I need to say hi to.” Snake says, wrapping his hand around Otacon’s. He understands instantly, and nods gently. No words need to be spoken between them to understand what Snake’s saying.

“Sunny!” Otacon calls out, his happiness plastered all over his words. “Could you come over where I am for a minute? You’re going to like this, promise.”

A second later, and his daughter bounces over to his room, peeking out from the frame of the door. “Ooh, what is it, dad?” She chirps, swaying her head from side to side. “Do I get ice cream? Oh, do I get to talk to papa again--”

She stops and lets out a gasp when she sees Snake’s ghost.  _ Well, Sunny, you got your last wish.  _ Otacon thinks, laughing.

“Daddy...” Sunny runs up to him and squeals into her father’s shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly like he might disappear if she didn’t. “You’re... a ghost now! You’re back! You’re... actually, really back...” 

Otacon can see the smile pricking at the corners of her lips, can see the way her eyes scrunch up, can see the glistening teardrops starting to fall from her eyes. He tears up a little bit too.

“Yeah. I’m here, Sunny.” Says Snake, whose eyes are already shut. He wraps his arms around his daughter. “Listen... I can’t be a ghost forever -- but I’m never going to leave you like I had to before ever again, alright? Daddy’s going to be here for the rest of time, with you and dad.”

_ None _ of them care that Snake’s a ghost. He’s here, and that’s what matters. 

Sunny breaks from the hug after what seems like an eternity (of which Otacon spends the whole time smiling with joy for his family). She has that bright spark in her eyes again, and Otacon swears he hears the exact moment a lightbulb goes over her head. “Wait! Wait here! I’ve got a good idea.”

Snake gives him a questioning look as she runs off, but it relaxes into one of contentment as he hears her giggles echo over from the next room. “I’ve missed this so much, Hal.” He says, meeting his eyes. “You, Sunny, this house... I’ve missed it.”

“We’ve missed you.” Otacon murmurs, briefly reminiscing on the grief he and his daughter went through. It all seems so distant now.

His husband steps closer to him, and places a comforting hand on his shoulder -- as if to remind him that he was going to be here forever. There was no more time limit on the years they could have together.

It works, and Otacon feels all his worries lift away.

“Okay! I’m back!” Sunny cheers as she practically dashes into the room. “I got the radio! We can dance like we used to do...” She places it down on the floor, her eyes wide with excitement. 

As she fiddles with the stations, Otacon feels his own eagerness spring to his chest. He was never the most brilliant dancer, but there was one particular dance he’d learnt when he was living in Alaska with Snake. Memories of waltzing with Snake to the most inappropriate songs make him flush with happiness.

Snake remembers too, his own small grin is plastered over his face. Sunny lets out a squeak of joy as music starts to fill the room. It isn’t a slow song, nor is it too fast. It’s bouncy and bright and  _ hopeful _ and everything starts to fit together again. None of them have heard this song before, but all their feet start to move in unison.

Otacon twirls, shifting his feet and affectionately bumping into Snake who’s bobbing his head and shaking his arms back and forth. Their daughter jumps between them with her shoulders rocking along to the tune and her feet light on the ground. He lets out a laugh as she grabs his hand at one part and does a twirl with him, and he feels himself break away from his one favourite dance. Just a little bit.

It’s a perfect scene. There’s him, there’s Snake, and there’s Sunny, all dancing together to the radio’s song. Otacon dances half a waltz, Sunny bounces along to the rhythm without a care in the world, and Snake, in his ghostly form is holding both their hands and trying to make it work with some (likely) improvised dance. 

None of them match up -- but his heart warms.

This is  _ home. _   
  



End file.
